Acrophobia Via Aquaphobia
by Superficial Faith
Summary: Cole learns that his fear of water creates a fear of heights not of an unreasonable nature.


**Disclaimer: inFAMOUS belongs to its respective creator and companies. No copyright infringement is intended.**

You know, hanging from a pipe hundreds of feet above the bay isn't exactly my idea of a good time. The idea in itself is scary enough for some, but when your entire body is as electrically charged as an alkaline battery, well, let's just say that "aquaphobia" gets an entirely new meaning.

"Cole, it's been an hour. What the hell are you doing? Just hanging out?" I hear Moya's voice from over the speakerphone attached to the strap of my backpack.

"That's one way to put it." My voice comes out in half a grunt as I pull myself up onto the top of the piping.

"So you haven't even started crossing underneath the bridge yet?" She sounds almost amused. Damn bitch.

"You know, this isn't as easy as you think it is," I reply, my voice coming out in a higher pitch than normal as I look down at the stirring waters; waves almost mocking me.

I hear a disbelieving chuckle from the other end of the line.

"I can't believe it. Are you actually whimpering? I never thought you'd be afraid of a little water."

"A little" was a gross understatement. Grey waters were all I could see beneath me. There wouldn't be enough _time_ for me to swim to shore if I fell.

"Look, Moya, I can barely walk across a puddle without sending sparks shooting across my feet. If I fall, I'll be as crisp as a chicken wing from KFC."

"Better hope you don't fall, then." There was a pause, before she added, almost as if in a sick joke, "Better hope you don't kiss anyone, either. You'll fry them. Hope your girlfriend knows."

"Leave Trish out of this!" I growl as I make a break for it and cling to yet another pipe. Granted, Moya had a point. If I so much as kissed Trish, even her saliva could set me off. It would be the equivalent of her sticking her tongue into an electrical socket. Then again, we weren't even really "together" right now. Either way, it wasn't a situation I really wanted to picture.

"You're not really in a position to be issuing me demands, Cole. Have you already forgotten who's holding the reins at the moment?"

"Do me a favor, Lady, and shut the hell up. If I fall, then you'll never find your husband. Sonofa—!"

The pipe I'm holding onto breaks from its supports from underneath the bridge in a small shower of sparks. Abandoning it as quickly as I can, I lunge for the nearest thing I can grab onto, which happens to be a pole from a warning light.

Shit. When was the last time this bridge underwent repairs?

"What happened?"

"The pipes are coming down. Now, for the last time, would you please _shut up_? I'm scared shitless right now."

White foam rises up as the remains of the pipe fall into the bay below.

"You know the answer to that, Cole."

Normally, I'd turn my phone off at this point and cuss the woman out, but the damn thing is wired and I'm too scared out of my wits to free my death grip on the pole to push the button. And I criticized Trish for being afraid of heights? Somehow, her fear seems extremely rational at this particular moment.

And then I spot it. A grate attached to the other end of the ledge. _Oh thank God_.

My excitement and relief gets the better of me, and I forget to shock down the light in front of me, the pads of my fingers barely grazing the surface. When someone tells you they had something slip through their fingertips, I doubt this is what they mean. Through some _miracle_, I manage to get my other hand on the support.

_Don't look down, don't look down. Whatever the fuck you do, don't look down!_

Unfortunately, such a thing seems inevitable as I lunge for the final pipe which, of course, breaks underneath my weight, making me swing the momentum of my body forward again. But, I am _there._ I am finally _there_.

As I reach the platform, I land on my stomach rather ungracefully, half belly-flop, half "_dear God I hope I make it_", kissing the ground like the pope. As I finally look up, a very perplexed Reaper looks right back at me. We seem to stare at each other for a few seconds before, very suddenly, I find myself showered in tar-like Reaper vomit. Delightful.

What a _perfect_ end to the _perfect_ mission.

**Author's Note: Just a fun little writing exercise after watching my brother play a level in inFAMOUS. Of course, it has not yet undergone anything but a brief revision, so constructive criticism is much appreciated, especially in characterization and the (crappy) plot flow.**


End file.
